


Relinquishing Control

by exyking



Series: Lamen Kinks [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Inappropriate behaviour at council meetings, M/M, Mild Kink, Public Hand Jobs, Restraints, Rimming, Rough Sex, Teasing, looking at you Laurent, mild exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:02:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7731394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exyking/pseuds/exyking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damen finds it difficult to concentrate on a rather long and dull council meeting, so Laurent lends a helping hand to keep him focused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relinquishing Control

**Author's Note:**

> If you can't tell from the title (and tags) this one's just as wild as the last. Have fun.

“There is another matter which requires your majesty’s attention.” 

Damen sighed, running a hand through his hair.

They had been sitting in this chamber for several hours now, going through the final reports of the harvest, preparations for the approaching winter festival, and the arrival of a foreign delegation for trade talks between their countries. Damen felt like he would very much like to punch something. He was a patient man, a patient king, but there was a fine line between patience and sitting in a chair listening to the same old men bicker about grain crops and bed linens for five hours.

Laurent, of course, sat perfectly impassive and collected at his side. If he was frustrated by this never ending council meeting, he gave no indication. One delicately slender wrist balanced on the arm of his chair while the other was crooked beneath his lips, and a slim leg sat artfully crossed over the other. His pale hair was loose and gathered over one shoulder, running in golden rivulets down his chest.

As if sensing his gaze, Laurent’s head turned imperceptibly and his eyes met Damen's. Now that Damen saw him more clearly, he noticed some strain around Laurent's eyes, as though keeping this mask of perfect neutrality in place was starting to wear on him.

Damen would never get used to the feeling of looking at Laurent and noticing such small, seemingly insignificant details, and being able to see a glimpse into how he was feeling. No one else would look at the stoic king with his cool and aloof veneer and see such things. No one but Damen.

Laurent arched an eyebrow, as though he could read Damen’s thoughts on his face. Damen had no doubt that he could. 

He schooled the slight smile that had snuck onto his lips back into an impassive and kingly frown, and turned back to face the man who had spoken to him. Councilor Eomedes. Damen seemed to recall a comment Laurent had made about the man expiring before he contributed anything of worth to any meeting. Damen also recalled what had followed that accusation and cleared his throat.

“What matter is this?”

“We have received word from the foreign delegation that they require additional lodgings for three nobles who have joined their retinue with late notice and a further ten men-at-arms."

Damen nodded, resigning himself to this torture, and allowed the conversation to drone on.

He had little to contribute, as he knew little of the customs that this foreign delegation kept and how best to accommodate them, and so let the councilors bicker and discuss it in  _painful_ detail among themselves. Laurent had more to offer than he, as Vere had apparently shared a close relationship with this country some decades ago, and so knew better these matters of detail.

He could feel Laurent’s gaze on him occasionally, watching him with some sort of calculation in his expression. Damen did not know where to begin to interpret it, so mostly he ignored him, lest he become far less interested in these discussions than he already was. He could almost hear Laurent’s voice in his head, mocking him, ‘ _attention span of a child…’_

Damen’s thoughts trailed away, forgotten, as he realized there was a hand on his thigh. To be more precise,  _Laurent’s_ hand was on his thigh.

He stiffened, as subtly as he could, and his gaze flickered over to Laurent, who, for all intents and purposes, appeared perfectly calm and collected as he turned to one of the female councilors to inform her that ‘Lysinians are not familiar with Akielon fruits, it would be prudent to make some offering to showcase the unique luxuries of this fine country’.

Damen shifted minutely in his seat and he felt Laurent’s hand tighten on his thigh in warning, even as it inched closer inward. He realized with a sudden jolt what Laurent’s intentions were, and felt his face flush. Coughing to hide his alarm, he shot a glance at him and saw the tiniest twitch of his lips.

Before he could try to shake Laurent’s hand off without drawing attention, one of the female councilors at the table loudly and pointedly cleared her throat. “Perhaps we can demonstrate some more _Veretian_ customs, as we are one kingdom now,” she said, only slightly bitterly. "It would not do a justice to our people if these Lysinians were only to sample _Akielon_ traditions. They might get the wrong idea about which are more influential over our combined kingdoms.”

Damen would have bristled at the implications in her tone at any other time, but right now he was fighting to keep his attention on the conversation as Laurent’s fingertips brushed the edges of Damen’s manhood through the fabric of his chiton.

“Shoving Veretian things in their face is only going to make them think we are overcompensating for something,” Nikandros shot back, clearly at the end of his patience.

The women narrowed her eyes in response. “Already we speak Akielon, already we have adopted your clothing, your foods and festivals-- we are hosting this very delegation here in Ios, in place of more neutral territory at Marlas. Showing them a combination of our cultures will not…”

“We are trading  _Akielon_ resources. Resources that grow in  _Akielos_ not  _Vere._ If it were the other way around--”

“You would be complaining just as I am,” the woman spat.

Nikandros bristled, but Damen was spared intervening--which was an immense relief because his thoughts were still stumbling to catch up--when Laurent spoke.

“Of course, you are right. We must show them our kingdoms are united and equal. I have heard Lysinians favor hunting, perhaps we will show them how Vere conducts our expeditions. It is a traditional way to honor guests, after all. Would this satisfy such a requirement?” Laurent said. He betrayed absolutely nothing of what he was currently doing to Damen under the table.

Damen grit his teeth, hyperaware of Laurent’s hand as it moved closer, almost there, inching so slowly so as not to attract attention. Damen was struggling against the urge to shift his hips, an entirely inappropriate response given their current company.

“Among other things, that would be most amenable. A showcase of our…” Whatever the woman was saying was completely lost to Damen as Laurent’s hand finally cupped Damen’s cock. Damen coughed to cover the hitch in his breath, and felt eyes on him as he realized it was the second time he had coughed to cover a reaction. Laurent paid no heed to this, and began to gently squeeze and massage the quickly hardening length beneath his palm.

Damen’s arousal was growing at an alarming rate. He was thankful his colouring concealed his blush, because his cheeks were positively burning. He was sure that if he had Laurent's coloring, he would be beetroot red at this point. 

As Laurent’s hand pressed more insistently, Damen felt his hips twitch upwards. He was deeply conflicted between enjoying the feeling of Laurent’s hand on him, and trying to maintain an appearance of normalcy. It was mortifying that Laurent was doing this in front of a group of withered old men and sharp tongued women and  _Nikandros._ If any of them discovered what Laurent was doing… Laurent’s hand twisted and Damen had to cover his mouth with his hand in what he hoped was a casual movement. He rested his elbow on the table and leant on it for support.

“In any case, Queen Lyrinet has made her opinion upon the practices of pets abundently clear,” Laurent said, a response to a question Damen hadn’t heard. Laurent turned to him and the look on his face was a completely neutral one, but Damen saw the glint in his eyes as he squeezed Damen’s shaft a little harder. “Do you have anything further to add, Damianos?”

Damen shuddered, forcing himself to respond calmly, “No, nothing further.” Laurent nodded, lips twitching. Damen wanted to murder him. Or throw him down on the table and fuck him senseless. Both, probably.

He turned away and avoided meeting any of the councilor’s eyes.

“To another matter,” Councilor Eomedes continued.

Which was, of course, when Laurent began to draw up the fabric of Damen's chiton. Damen's breath hitched when he felt the fabric start to edge up his thigh. He shot a startled look at Laurent, who happened to be looking in the exact oposite direction, and found himself unable to do anything as his cock was slowly bared to the room. Laurent stopped only when the fabric bunched at the top of his thighs.

Damen was suddenly very grateful for the large size of the table.

With Damen’s cock now freed from beneath the chiton, Laurent was able to wrap his hand around it properly. He stroked it slowly from root to tip, drawing the foreskin up and back, with a practiced movement of his wrist that did not extend to his upper arm, and so did not indicate to anyone just what he was doing to the King under the table.

Damen worked his jaw and clenched his teeth to keep from making any noises, and fought against the fluttering of his eyelids as Laurent twisted his hand over the head of his cock and thumbed the slit purposefully. He knew exactly what got to Damen most, exactly what brought him to full hardness, gave him such pleasure that Damen thought his eyes would start to water.

Laurent hummed at someone in an answer, and Damen turned to him again, pleading evident in his eyes. What he was pleading for, Damen didn’t know. For him to stop? For him to go faster, harder? For him to send everyone away so that Damen could exact a very particular revenge?

A soft noise escaped Damen’s throat before he could stop it and Laurent’s hand tightened in warning, though his face remained blank. To his mortification, he noticed that Nikandros was now watching him, his expression curious. Damen fought the urge to unleash a string of variably explicit curses.

Nikandros would never let him live this down if he discovered what Laurent was doing- what Damen was allowing to happen in this  _very serious_ council meeting, which was the least appropriate of all times for Laurent to start massaging his balls and  _oh fuck.._. Before he could help it his eyes fluttered closed. As if in response, Laurent’s ministrations became more purposeful, more deliberately teasing. Damen’s mind blanked and he floundered for a way to cover his reaction to this  _impossible_ and rapidly deteriorating situation.

He coughed again, louder and more throatily, and all the councilors turned to look at him with concern.

“Are you ill, exalted?” one of them asked.

Damen thought he was going to die.

“No… No I’m-- I just--”

“I believe Damianos is simply weary after such a long meeting. Perhaps we can adjourn until the morrow?” Damen could have kissed Laurent for that. Everyone was finally going to leave and then Damen was going to grab Laurent, the little shit, and…

“But, Majesty, there is one more matter which requires your attention-”

Damen wanted to shout at the stupid man who had said that. All rational thought was gone, now. “No. Tomorrow. It can wait till then,” he ground out through clenched teeth, and, _finally,_ Laurent’s hand stilled. Though he didn’t remove it, and the pressure of his grip didn’t lessen. Small victories.

The man looked as though he was going to argue, but something in Damen’s expression seemed to stop him. He opened his mouth, closed it, nodded, and then he stood. The rest of the council stood with him and they all began to leave the room.

Laurent and he remained seated, and Damen was ridiculously grateful that their chairs were closest to the wall and not the door, because if any of the councilors should turn now they would see Laurent’s hand stretched between them beneath the table and Damen’s chiton bunched over his thighs.

Damen noted that Nikandros was the last to leave, and his expression seemed equally stunned and thunderous. Damen winced as their eyes met, and Nikandros shook his head.

“Of all the fucking times for you two to become sex-crazed animals…” he muttered that, and worse, under his breath as he left the room.

It was borderline treasonous, but Damen cared little for that between them. Besides, the room was empty, the door closed, and Laurent was pushing up from his chair. More important things were at hand than a disgruntled Nikandros.

Damen’s eyes went to Laurent immediately, and he didn’t bother to hide any of the lust and frustration from his expression. He was desperately hard and aching for the man standing now above him, wanting nothing more than Laurent’s lips on his.

Laurent smiled down at him, a wicked thing, and pushed Damen’s chair back along the floor so he could lean over him. Despite the previous appearance of calm, Laurent’s cheeks were flushed, lips parted as his eyes searched Damen’s face, landing upon his lips. Damen saw the heat in his eyes, the quickness of his breathing, felt the desire in him, an echo of his own.

“Laurent,” he breathed, and then Laurent’s lips were on him.

Their kiss was messy and ferocious, as Damen tried to relieve all of his pent up frustration and Laurent sought only to frustrate further. Damen growled low in his throat and in a smooth motion stood up so abruptly that it tilted Laurent off balance. His hands flew to Damen’s arms, and Damen caught him only to push him further so that he was pressed against the table. With a smirk, he used his considerable strength to lift up and tilt Laurent backwards, so that he lay flat on the wooden surface.

Laurent huffed, surprised at the ease with which he was manhandled to Damen’s liking, but the heat in his eyes seemed only to burn hotter, and he wrapped his legs around Damen’s waist and pulled him close.

“Fucking tease,” Damen growled, leaning over him to catch his lips again. Damen’s height meant that he could both kiss Laurent ferociously and grind his aching cock into his ass where their bodies connected.

Laurent squeezed his waist tighter with his thighs in retaliation, and gripped Damen’s hair hard. “What can I say,” he rasped as they broke away, “I had to do something to keep your attention from wandering.”

Damen growled and nuzzled his neck. “I want to mark you,” he said into Laurent’s skin, and he felt the other’s response in the way his hands tightened in Damen’s hair.

“Yes,” he breathed, and let out a soft sound as Damen latched onto his neck and sucked and bit a bruise into the skin there. Laurent writhed beneath him, breaths heavy and harsh, his thighs clutching Damen like a vice.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” Damen said after he had created a trail of bruises in the crook of Laurent’s neck, his arousal as heavy and aching. “I want to fuck you right now on this table.”

Laurent’s eyes widened, and Damen pulled back so he could see him properly. His reddened lips were parted, pleasantly bruised, his hair fanning out around him like a golden halo. He looked debauched. He was utterly beautiful.

“What do you want, Laurent?”

Laurent smiled then, a smile that was crooked with something less than pleasant. “I want you to fuck me so hard that everyone in this palace hears us, hears me  _scream_. I want you to bend me over this table and split me open on your thick cock and fill me with your come. I want you to fuck me so hard that I can’t think, until all I remember is your name and the words yes _,_ _Damen_ , _harder._  I want to look at this table and remember always what you did to me here, so that every time I enter this room my cock will stir at the memory of you inside me.”

Damen had to close his eyes to keep from losing it.

He had always known that Laurent had a filthy mouth, it was one of the first things he had learnt about him, when they had met on that fateful day so long ago now. But this. This was something else. This was Laurent zeroing in on everything that made Damen mad with lust, and exploiting them one by one. Only Laurent could do such a thing. Only ever Laurent.

"Fuck yes,” Damen growled, and he hoisted Laurent up.

For a moment he was holding him, their chests flush together, Laurent’s legs around his waist. Their faces were so close that their breaths were mingled, shared. Damen lost himself in Laurent’s eyes, and Laurent did not look away. He was the one to close the distance, in the end.

The kiss they shared was sweeter than the bruising one of before, though no less filled with want, with need. It was as easy to kiss Laurent as breathing, as easy to claim and explore the depths of his mouth as blinking. He had come to know him utterly, to know every part of his being, every part of the desire that they shared. 

It was Laurent who ended it, unhooking his legs from Damen’s waist and dropping to the floor. It was only a moment before Damen collected himself and turned him around, crowding him against the table.

Laurent leaned over, his hands braced against the wood as Damen pressed close. Their bodies were flush against one another, no hint of space between them. Damen deliberately pressed his hardness into Laurent’s ass, and Laurent pressed back against him.

“Fuck, Damen,” Laurent breathed, his head tipped forwards.

Damen hummed, eyes closed as he chased the sensations. It wasn’t enough. “We need oil,” he said, his mind coming to awareness enough to know that.

“I don’t care-- I want--”

“No,” Damen said, adamant. “I don’t care how fucking desperate either of us are, I will not hurt you.”

Laurent shuddered before him, nodding minutely.

It never failed to amaze Damen, that this harsh, vulgar young man would respond so acutely to gentleness. Before Damen, he had only experienced selfishness, cruelty, at the hands of a man who had deserved far worse than the end he met. Laurent had not known fucking-- no,  _lovemaking--_  could be an act of pure pleasure, something intimate shared between lovers, where there was no need for pain. No need for one to suffer at the expense of another.

He had never experienced it, and for that Damen would always be devastated. Laurent deserved nothing but the world, and everything perfect in it.

“Laurent,” Damen’s voice was soft, his rough hold of Laurent suddenly withdrawn. “We can’t without--”

Laurent made a noise of disapproval, and ground back against Damen. “You’re smart," he interrupted. “Improvise”.

Damen looked around the room, searching for something,  _anything_ that would act as a lubricant. His eyes fell on the oil lamp. They had used that before, it would serve to use now.

Laurent watched him as he strode over to the lamp, smashing it in his haste to get to the contents, and brought the dish over to where Laurent waited. Laurent laughed, head thrown back and smile bright. No doubt he remembered the last time they had been forced to improvise, the last oil lamp broken at the expense of their haste.

“Will this serve?” Damen asked him, and Laurent nodded.

Damen set the oil on the table and returned to his place behind Laurent. He dragged the slighter man back against him, crushing their bodies together. Laurent hummed his approval, hips circling teasing motions against Damen.

Damen’s hands went around him to the front of his trousers, and he began to pull at the laces there. There was no point removing the rest of their clothes, they only needed the parts that would serve this purpose. Damen vowed he would make up for his lack of attention to Laurent’s other assets later. In bed. With his tongue.

When Laurent’s trousers were undone, Damen pushed them down his thighs, bending to tug them off. He pushed Laurent’s legs apart, revealed the white globes of his pale buttocks. Damen put his hand to that soft flesh and squeezed it in his calloused palm. Laurent’s head tipped down and he pressed back into Damen’s hand.

Then, Damen did something unexpected.

Laurent looked behind him in surprise as Damen went to his knees, putting his face level with Laurent’s ass. “What are you--” Laurent began, but was cut off with a sharp intake of breath as Damen’s hands parted his cheeks and he leant forward.

Laurent had never felt such a sensation before; the sensation of Damen’s tongue licking a long stripe over his hole. His hips stuttered minutely, and his hand flung out behind him to grip Damen’s hair as the other man began to lave attention over his entrance with long, slow swipes of his tongue.

Laurent couldn’t push him away, didn’t want to. He could only clutch at soft, dark curls as his body weathered the strange and intense waves of pleasure.

It was frighteningly intimate, almost too much for Laurent to bear. Yet, as Damen’s ministrations didn’t let up, the strange sensations became so strong and so  _good,_ that Laurent let out a long moan. It was unbearably arousing, the idea of Damen on his knees behind him, doing something so filthy and taboo and _intimate_ because he wanted to. Because he wanted to pleasure him.

Laurent’s head fell forward again and he spread his legs wider, giving over to the gentle bliss of thoughtlessness.

_Don’t think._

Damen hummed in approval, relishing the way Laurent enjoyed this. He had been uncertain about how Laurent would react, whether he would want it or be disgusted by it, but the other man’s eagerness only heightened Damen’s own desire, and he palmed himself through his chiton.

He remembered receiving this sort of intimacy from others before, though it had been rare. He hadn’t sought it from slaves, whom he preferred to pleasure himself. It was usually only fellow soldiers and gladiators who enjoyed this embrace, and from whom he enjoying receiving it. But Laurent.

_Laurent._

Damen thought there was nothing more beautiful in this world than a Laurent flushed with pleasure, back arching as he rode the motions of Damen’s tongue. A Laurent who trusted Damen with his defenses lowered, thought driven from mind in place of more primal, more physical concerns. It made Damen’s heart ache, and heat pool in his belly.

Damen began to alternate between long, slow licks, and gentle thrusts of his tongue into that tight heat, enjoying the sounds Laurent made every time he penetrated that ring of muscle. Saliva began to drip down his chin and it was filthy and perfect and everything Damen wanted.

“Damen,” Laurent moaned, pushing back into Damen’s face, “Damen, fuck, please.”

With another long, slow lick, Damen stood and once more crowded against Laurent’s back. He kissed his shoulder. “Tell me what you want.”

Laurent closed his eyes and relished Damen’s closeness, aware of every inch of him. He released a tight breath. “I want you to finger me. I want your fingers  _deep_ inside me. I want you to hammer at that sweet spot until I can’t even speak, until my legs give out. But, fuck, then, then I want you to hold me up and fuck me even harder. And after, when I’m ready, when I can do nothing but lie on that table and beg for it, I want your cock,” he ground back against Damen to punctate his point, “your ridiculously big cock.”

Damen, who’s eyes had closed as he imagined everything Laurent asked of him, opened them to look at him. “I thought you said I was everywhere in proportion?”

“You are. You are simply ridiculously big everywhere.”

Damen laughed, the sound deep and throaty and everything Laurent wanted.

“Whenever you’re ready,  _exalted,”_ he said.

Damen huffed a breath at him, one equally desire and humor. Laurent had noticed Damen liked it when he used the honorific.

 

By the time Damen had opened Laurent up to the last knuckle of two fingers, Laurent was well past the point of witty quips. When Damen drilled into his prostate relentlessly, the perfect angle and pressure to make stars explode behind his eyelids, he felt his knees give out beneath him. Only as requested, after all. Damen merely caught him when he fell and gently laid him on the table, draped over it with his hands clutching the wood as Damen didn’t stop. Beneath Damen’s careful hands, he was nothing but a vessel of pleasure. Every noise coaxed out of him was broken and desperate.

“Fuck me- Damen I’m ready- Fucking  _fuck_ just- just-”

Damen once more made him wait while he inserted a third finger, and continued merrily with his thrusts. Laurent would have kicked him for that act of insolence, if he still had use of his legs.

There was something about being boneless underneath Damen, utterly incapable of moving away from the endless, merciless pleasure, that made Laurent so impossibly hard and so deliciously delirious. He could do nothing but moan and angle his hips for a deeper thrust.

Finally, satisfied that the demand had been fulfilled, Damen removed his fingers from Laurent’s wet heat. He stood and ripped the pin which held up his clothing from his shoulder, and let the chiton pool at his waist. He untied the belt that kept it in place, and it fell in a heap to the floor.

It was an arousing juxtaposition; Damen fully bared as the day he’d been born, while Laurent remained somewhat clothed. Laurent took a moment to appreciate it, before his breath caught at the sight of Damen slicking up his cock with the last of the oil. Laurent had never felt more desperate to be filled in his life. He needed Damen inside him, needed that hot, rigid length fucking him deep and hard. He needed it like he needed air, he would surely die without it.

Damen took himself in hand, stroking his cock once, twice, before guiding it to Laurent’s entrance.

At the feel of the hot, wet tip rubbing against his wet hole Laurent cursed loudly.

Always, Damen pushed in slowly, easing the tip through the ring of muscles that had relaxed through preparation and constant practice. He was able to bury himself to the hilt in nearly half the time it had taken all but months ago, and with a fraction of the pain. Laurent felt proud. He also had the dignity to feel a little ridiculous for feeling proud about such a thing.

“So tight. Always so tight, so good,” Damen rambled mindlessly over his shoulder, lost in the feeling of being inside Laurent. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t- I don’t-  _fuck.”_

Laurent pushed back against him, taking Damen in deeper and relishing the faint burn and tight stretch. He pictured the sight they would make like this; Damen’s front flush against his back, thighs against thighs, himself stretched out over the table, engulfed by the size of Damen above him. He pictured the vice of Damen’s hands on his hips, his cock impossibly deep inside, filling him utterly…

Damen drew out, slowly, carefully, until only the tip remained pressed inside. Laurent let out a sound of frustration as he clenched around nothing, and tried to chase Damen backwards to force him back inside. Damen, however, was having none of that, and stilled Laurent effortlessly with his hands, pinning him to the table roughly, giving no quarter. All Laurent could do was moan and curse and  _take it_ as Damen slowly,  _slowly_ thrust back in.

Laurent felt every inch of it in increments that seemed to last a lifetime, each fraction of a movement resonating throughout his entire body. He tried to writhe against the building sensations, but was kept still, and that in itself served to fan the flames only higher.

It was unlike anything they had done together before, unlike any moment of love making since that first night in Ravenel, when Damen had held him and taken him apart with sweetness and gentleness. It was Damen who always ceded control to Laurent, who assured that Laurent was in command and always comfortable. It was never this- never Laurent relinquishing control to Damen, never Laurent allow himself to be held and teased and pleasured to Damen’s fancy. It was never this. Laurent had never thought it could be this.

 “Frustrating, isn’t it?” Damen growled at him from above, drawing his cock slowly out once more. Laurent could hear the desperation in that growl, and knew that it was taking everything Damen had right now not to just start thrusting mindlessly and take them both over the crest of pleasure. “Just lying there, being  _teased,”_ he punctuated his point with a slightly harder thrust, and Laurent yelped, nails scratching into the wood of the table as his back arched.

“Proving… ah fuck- proving a point?” Laurent hissed out.

Damen’s chuckle was breathy with desire, and Laurent closed his eyes to savor it. “The things you do to me Laurent,” he said, “These games you play, touching me under the table in a council meeting, stroking my cock while I could only sit there and take it.”

“You liked it,” Laurent pointed out.

An idea sprang to his mind, and his hand scrabbled behind him for a purchase on some part of Damen’s being, where he might find the leverage to force that hot length deeper inside himself. But Damen was too fast, too quick, and Laurent found his hand captured and held to the small of his back. When Laurent tried again with the other, it met a similar fate.

Now, Laurent was utterly incapacitated. All it would take to be released was a single word, but the faint tingling sense of danger was enough to make Laurent’s head spin. He was pressed hard against a table, unable to wriggle away with the hand on his hip holding him steady, and unable to find any leverage with both of his hands pinned to the small of his back. It forced him to lie down completely flat, head turned to the side to avoid crushing his face. From this angle, he could look back and meet Damen’s eyes.

The look in them was one of utter reverence. To see Laurent lying before him, split open on his cock… Damen was humbled and awed. He was open, raw, wanting, and all of it was for Laurent. All of it was for want of him.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he said.

Laurent scoffed, jostling his body where it was perched on Damen’s cock. He tensed at the wonderful sensation, and Damen hissed, hands clenching reflexively where they held Laurent.

“An obscene amount,” Laurent managed, stifling all traces of the desperation he felt. “I counter, have I ever told you that you talk too much?”

Damen laughed. "This is alright?" he asked.

Laurent would have rolled his eyes, but he knew Damen needed his confirmation that this was what he wanted, that Damen wasn't being too rough or going too far. Or triggering a memory of a long ago past. It didn't, of course. He had marveled at that before. Damen was entirely different to everything Laurent had ever know, and every inch of him was a constant reminder of that fact. When Laurent was with him, when Damen was inside of him, the only person Laurent saw or felt, was Damen himself. Keenly.

"Yes," Laurent said, and that was enough for them both.

Damen’s thrusts continued in their slow pace. It was slightly faster than the drawn out tease of before, but it wasn’t fast enough to satisfy Laurent. He wanted to be taken, roughly, until he cried out from pleasure and was utterly lost in the physical sensation. He wanted to feel Damen’s hard, muscled body slamming against his, the sharp bite of pain where his fingers dug deep. He wanted it, he needed it, and Damen wasn’t giving it to him.

Laurent writhed as best he could with no leverage, threw every barbed insult he could over his shoulder at Damen, but it brought him no reprieve. He felt like he was dancing on the edge of madness.

“For fucks sake you giant, brutish  _animal_ , shove your cock into me. Fuck me hard,  _now_ , Damen, you fucking shit l…”

He was cut off when the hand that held his hip released him, and instead buried itself into the long golden tresses of his hair. Damen pulled only gently on those locks, but it was enough to send tingles of pleasure and pain down Laurent’s spine. He moaned, words trailing away, and felt Damen’s body jostle him with his chuckle.

“You like that, don’t you?” he breathed, bending further over Laurent till their faces almost pressed together, and tightening the grip in his hair a fraction. It wasn’t enough.

“ _Harder,”_ Laurent breathed, and was rewarded with a sharp tug on his hair as his head was lifting up off of the table and forced back. It caused his back to arch awkwardly under Damen, but simultaneously drove his cock  _deeper._ His body was quite literally balanced on Damen’s cock, the only things keeping him in place being Damen’s large, rough hands and that obscene strength.

Laurent closed his eyes and the full body shudder that rolled through him ripped a ridiculously loud moan from his throat. It seemed he was even relinquishing control of his voice now, too.

“Fuck Laurent,” Damen moaned in his ear. “Fucking hell, you’re so beautiful, so pretty balanced on my cock.”

Laurent hummed his approval, nuzzling the side of his head into Damen’s.

The other man laughed at the display of affection, pressing just as firmly back. “Grip your forearms behind your back for me,” Damen said in his ear, and Laurent hesitated only a moment before complying.

By gripping his forearms, he created a more convenient place for Damen to hold him, instead of awkwardly clutching both wrists. It allowed Damen to return to an upright position while still retaining a firm and unbreakable hold of Laurent. To Laurent’s relief and pleasure, the hand remained in his hair, holding his head upright and keeping his back arched.

“Now will you fuck me?” Laurent asked, his voice a little strained from the angle of his neck.

“Yes, Laurent. Now I’m going to fuck you,” Damen told him, voice dark.

Then then he was moving.

Laurent’s world narrowed to the feeling of Damen thrusting roughly inside of him, setting his body on fire with pleasure. The combination of the hand in his hair tugging roughly, and the fact that he couldn’t  _move,_ seemed to heighten the sensations, fanning them into a deafening crescendo as Laurent struggled to piece together articulate thought. He was utterly, deliciously vulnerable, could only lie there and take what Damen gave to him. But, ever selfless, Damen took advantage of this fact only to time his thrusts with Laurent’s steadily louder cries and pleas to be fucked.

“Oh fuck, Damen,  _yes._ ”

Damen’s heavy groans and pants from above him joined his voice in chorus, and the combination was perfection. He was helpless against the need to moan and cry out, helpless but to chant his name. “ _Damianos,_ ” he breathed, and Damen quite literally growled at him, thrusting so deeply that Laurent’s breath hitched.

Laurent was close to the edge. It beckoned to him and he  _wanted it._ He wanted to come around Damen’s cock, his passage fluttering and milking from Damen his own orgasm. He wanted to feel the burst of hot seed inside him as Damen came undone, wanted to hear him cry in pleasure. Laurent wanted to be the one to ring it from him, every last drop of it, until Damen was utterly dried up.

“Damen I need- I want to come,” he rasped.

“What do you need?” Damen asked him, sounding barely coherent, yet still always aware of Laurent’s needs above his own. If Laurent asked him to withdraw completely and walk away right now, he probably would. Of course he would. He was Damianos. It was why Laurent loved him.

“I need you to come,” Laurent told him, and Damen sweared colorfully, his hips stuttering in a frantic rhythm. One of his thrusts drove directly into Laurent’s prostate, and Laurent’s vision greyed as he keened in pleasure.

“I’m close,” Damen told him.

Laurent smiled. “Then let go.”

Damen did.

His thrusts were hard and deep and merciless, every so often catching on Laurent’s prostate and wringing from him shattered cries. His breath was harsh and broken and his grunts and groans of pleasure incredible. Laurent was close, so  _close,_ _from the sound of his voice alone_ _._  He danced on the edge of this orgasm, so close to the edge that he thought he would die.

But, then, with Laurent’s name in a cry from his lips, Damen came.

Laurent felt his body shake, he felt the grip on his hair and hands tighten, he felt the hot burst of seed inside him, the twitch of Damen’s cock as it found release.

Laurent groaned and closed his eyes to savor it.

Damen thrust a handful more times as Laurent lay there, relishing the way his body had caused Damen’s pleasured abandon, and waited for Damen to come down from his high so that he could come himself. It didn’t take long.

“Laurent,” he said, nothing but a whisper.

Gently he released Laurent’s hair and hands, and held his hips as he withdrew his softening length. Laurent winced a little at the loss, but the crescendo of pleasure that had built inside him demanded his attention.

Damen took a step back, allowing Laurent to find his feet and rise. It took a moment. In a move that was utterly graceless in his debauched state, Laurent pushed himself up to sit on the table. Damen tried to help, but his pleasure heavy limbs were more of a hindrance than anything else. Laurent swatted him away and scooted himself backward, propping his feet up on the table before him and spreading his knees wide.

Damen blinked owlishly at him when he saw Laurent spreading himself out on the table for him. He saw Laurent’s reddened hole, leaking Damen’s own seed, his flushed cock bobbing and twitching and demanding attention. Damen swallowed heavily.

“Come here,” Laurent commanded, and Damen was helpless to obey.

When stood over Laurent, the other man tugged him down and claimed his mouth. The kiss was hot, messy, filled with teeth and tongue. Damen swore he felt his already sated cock twitch in response. It must have been unbearable for Laurent.

Laurent finally broke away, his breath heavy and eyes closed. He leaned back on his elbows on the table, propping himself up so he could still look at Damen, but relaxed enough so that he could ease the strain of sitting upright in his… condition.

“What do you want, Laurent?” Damen asked.

“I want you to finger me,” Laurent said, voice deceptively even. “And suck me off.”

Damen shivered and his eyes fluttered closed. Anything for Laurent. Anything.

First, he traced the line of cum that had leaked from Laurent’s hole, marveling at the way the ring of muscle fluttered as he teased it gently. Laurent breath hitched when Damen began to push it back inside- pushing his seed back into Laurent. It was quite possibly the most arousing thing Damen had ever seen.

“Damen,” Laurent hissed. Damen pushed his finger in deeper. It was quickly joined by another, and he crooked both digits against the nub of Laurent’s prostate, and groaned at the way Laurent’s entire body jerked and he gasped.

“So perfect…” he said, and did it again.

When Laurent’s moans where an incoherent mess, Damen took the head of his cock into his mouth and sucked it gently. He tongued the slit the way Laurent relished doing to him, and traced the sensitive vein that ran down the shaft until Laurent shook and cried out brokenly. He fluttered his tongue under the sensitive head, suckled gently at the tip, grazed teeth the faintest bit as he bobbed his head up and down. Laurent cursed him colorfully in Veretian, in Akielon, in a handful of languages Damen didn’t know, and Damen smiled around the cock in his mouth.

Then, relenting, he drew Laurent deeper, as deep as he could manage before he choked, almost to the base. Damen was still mastering the ability to relax his throat so that he might take Laurent all the way, so that Laurent might hold Damen’s head in place and fuck his mouth to a tempo and pressure that suited him. Damen relished the thought; his mouth open and wanton, Laurent fucking his throat… it made him hum contentedly, and Laurent cursed again.

Damen worked him expertly, focusing on the places he knew Laurent was most sensitive and receptive, free hand stroking what part of him his mouth couldn’t reach. He timed the bobbing of his head with the thrust and crook of his fingers, determinedly hitting his prostate every time with just the right intensity and pressure.

After what Damen thought was too soon, he felt Laurent stiffen above him. With a desperate sound that brought Damen to his knees, the tension snapped, and Laurent came, spurting into Damen’s mouth in thick, tangy rivulets that Damen swallowed down with relish. He sucked him through his orgasm, prolonging it with gentle strokes against his prostate until he began to shake, ensuring that he coaxed out every last drop of come that Laurent had to give.

When it became to much for him to bear, Laurent hissed in protest and tugged at Damen’s hair to pull him away from his now oversensitive cock. Damen released him with a last kiss to the tip and slowly removed the fingers inside him. Laurent was too boneless to even twitch at the loss.

Damen rose shakily to his feet, watching Laurent lying sprawled on the table and breathing heavily. A hand was pressed over his forehead where his hair was dampened with sweat, and his eyes were closed. Damen’s heart clenched.

He leant over him and pressed a gentle, almost chaste, kiss against Laurent’s lips, cupping his jaw loosely. He kept his mouth closed, uncertain whether Laurent would want to taste himself on Damen’s tongue, but hummed in pleasure when Laurent’s mouth opened under his and his tongue breached Damen’s anyway. The kiss lacked the fierce heat and need of before, but it was just as sweet, just as perfect. Damen poured everything of himself into it, desperate that Laurent should know how grateful he was. Sometimes it beggared belief, how far they had come.

“Walking through the palace may be a touch awkward, after this,” Laurent finally said with a sigh, eyes opening to look into Damen’s.

“We’re kings,” Damen shrugged, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

 

 

As it turned out, the worst that could happen was stumbling onto Nikandros on their way back to their rooms. At the sight of Laurent’s mussed hair and reddened cheeks, at Damen’s disheveled clothing and guileless grin, he had scowled, promptly turned on his heel, and stalked in the other direction. Laurent had watched after him, amusement penetrating the blissful haze of his mind, and Damen had the good grace to redden a little in embarrassment. He still laughed, though.

They went to bed early that night, exhausted from hours of boring meetings and the rigorous fucking that followed. Laurent pillowed his head on Damen’s muscular chest, wrapping an arm around him protectively even as Damen stroked his hair gently.

“Well,  _Exalted_ that was an eventful day,” Laurent had said into the stillness. Damen groaned, picking up on the obviously dig at his weakness for the honorific.

Laurent laughed. “If ‘Exalted’ gets you hot for me, just imagine how your mind will melt when I start screaming Husband when you fuck me.”

Damen stilled. Laurent looked up at him, and his face split into an ungodly grin when he saw the expression on Damen’s face. It was the expression of a man utterly wracked with want and need and  _love_ and it was so honest and so ridiculous that Laurent melted against him a little.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Laurent,” Damen finally whispered.

“Shut up and go to sleep…  _Husband._ ”

Damen groaned again and Laurent swatted at his chest before returning his head to lie there.

Sleep found them swiftly, and dreams of a future of this; of love and love making, of need and want and desire, of warmth and protection and  _husband_ was perfect enough that the nightmares of the past and the ghosts buried within it seemed very far away.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear god these two will kill me.
> 
> Honestly I imagine all Veretian clothing to be game of thrones esque, the male clothing at least (imagine a veretian lady in those plunging necklines, the scandal) 
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://exyking.tumblr.com/), regale me with your thoughts 
> 
> EDIT: 24/11/2016. (Massive edit done, cut a lot of the excessive crap out (nearly 4k yikes), but damn it's a lot better now.)


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